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Diplomacy with Wizards
Lil' Editor's Note: I just have been thinking about giving my character a bit of a story to tell, just something that would fit him well and get me some writing practice. I'm not a writer, but I am a little proud of this so, thought I'd see what y'all think!

Chk… chk… chk… chk… The clock was the only sound that made it through the dense atmosphere created by the tensions between the two diplomatic envoys. They were awaiting a holdup involving one of their contemporaries and a pod malfunction. Both sides were beginning to become more impatient by the minute, checking their PDA clocks and glancing at the exit. They already did not want to be here, and this wasn’t helping them stay

The door slowly creaked open, finally breaking the silence that once overtook the room. All those in the room glanced up to the creaking. The robed folks on the east side of the room were noticeably frustrated and impatient, the three sitting there giving a harsh glare to the newcomer. One of the folks, clothed in a red pointed hat and robes with flame decals on the base gave a disappointed glare, “Ah… we were almost excited you didn’t make it! HAH!”

“And eheh… it is swell to see you too!” The late joiner said, slightly embarrassed

“Oh, spare the pleasantries, holy man! Me and my colleagues grow ever tired of this waiting! And your tin can fellow over there berates my eardrums!” as they gestured over to a fellow across the room, “Speak not ill of my superior technology, wizard! Lest you find yourself cast into suffering by my wrath!” Belted out a loud, boisterous priest layered with technological gadgets and cloaked in a mahogany and tan robe

Tensions already had risen in the pastors absence, and he thought it wise to decrease hostility before a brawl begins before any discussion had even taken place. He frowned upon wizards as much as any other good pastor might, but he also knew of the capabilities of wizards, and instigation is something they enjoy greatly.

“Let us calmm, good folks! With mmmmy presence made, I believe it is timmme to begin our negotiations!”

“...sssssuppossse we’ve don’t got better shit to do…” Spoke a reptilian, oddly devoid of any skin or tissue, completely exposing their entire skull and bones, covered only by a black cloak.

Finally, with the disdain for another quelled to harsh stares and murmurings, everyone readied themselves at their seats. The pastors laid down their holy scriptures on the tables; The wizards, their staffs and spellbooks. After an awkward pause of getting their bearings, finally, a pastor rose from their seat.

“Well, as we are here for diplommacy and negotiation, I think it only fair that we are to introduce ourselves to everyone! I will go ahead and start! I refer to mmmyself as…” The pastor, noting his bovine-induced speech impediment, took extra care in making his name clear, “...Mavis ... Moovenheimer! I reside as a devout Space-Christian pastor under Nanotrasen commmmand, often working on the various space stations! Recently, I’ve been delving into work in creating better relations for the various unholy people of this galaxy!”

Mavis Moovenheimer clothed himself in a white undershirt and black dress, overlayed with a thin red vest. Over his neck was a gold cross necklace resting neatly between the opening in his overshirt. Likely most defining however, was his bovine race, adorning the appearance of a humanoid cow; On his head he sported two small horns, and his eyes were larger than humans. His skin (or rather his hide)  sported the same black-and-white patterns of any dairy creature you may find back on Earth.

“Now, would you like to introduce yourself, my contemporary to my right?”

“Mhm, yes,” As Mavis took his seat, another rose in his place to his right. A human woman, sporting a minimalistic nun robe and hood, well washed and ironed. She also adorned prescription glasses, which she often adjusted on her face. Her tone was professional, one may say stern. “I am Sister Jeanne, I work with the Planetary Aid Foundation on religious pilgrimages for charity work. In my off time, I manage the Sector 17 School for Misunderstood Misfits.” As she politely rested herself in her seat, the final pastor to Mavis’ left pushed his seat back with anger and rose proudly:

Listen well, utilizers of the arcane! Before you stands a messenger of the next step in the human’s evolution! To surpass the limitations of the flesh and rise to a new order! An order only possible through the machine! Data and circuitry will replace feeble and manipulatable brains! Diodes and receivers replace synapses and nerve endi-” Mavis bumps the rambunctious priest with his elbow. “Ugh! Fine! My name is Father Rodriguez and I am a devout follower of the Adeptus Mechanicus! Praise the Omnissiah! …happy now?

Mavis giggles and nods, whilst Sister Jeanne stares disapprovingly at Father Rodriguez, mumbling to herself. The representatives of the various religions had introduced themselves, and the foremost prominent wizard readied himself with a frustrated grimace, grunting as he pushed himself off the table

“Congratulations on boring me to tears, I am going to do us the favor of making my introduction quick! My name is Ignus the Sparking, I am a prominent high-ranking Arch-Mage specializing in pyromania.” Ignus gave off an ever-condescending tone, a spiteful gaze piercing through his large wizard hat and thick, gray facial hair. His age showed through his slow movement as he not-so-gracefully lowered himself into his chair, “Now, to my ri-”


The room echoes with a startling and vicious scream, stunning almost all in the room in sheer surprise. All eyes focus on the strange shouting sorcerer.

HI I AM ZIBLAR THE NICE TO MEET YOU” spouted a viscous creature sitting next to Ignus. Mavis interjects, “Is… that your title? The Nice to Meet You?” Ziblar offers a response it the form of glaring off into space and ignoring his question

Ziblar was perhaps the oddest of characters in the line up of diplomats. It was made almost entirely of slime, stuck in it various objects which were presumed to have various purposes: A speech translator, various bits of snacks such as chips and candy, and a cup with some coffee; all hovering in its slimy mold steadily. A robe was wrapped around it, and a wizards cap on top, but both were soaked by the mucus and partially sunken into Ziblar.

Reeling from the confusion of the slime monster, both parties glanced at the final wizard to the left of Ignus.

“...ssssssss …ssssssssssss”

“Hey! You! Eyes up!” Ignus poked at the sleepy lizard with his staff, jolting them awake!

“H-huh, what? Oh, fuckin’- right sure yeah” The apathetic wizard slothfully rose up, making rattling sounds as they planted their feet on the ground. They pulled some note cards stored in their rib, sorted through them and started. “My name isss Yolitz…” They sigh before exaggerating, “The Catasssstrophic. My professsssssor sent me here as a punissshment for ‘not taking my training sssseriou-’ Or uh… For learning what it means to be a wizard or sssssome sshit…”

She was a rebellious teen, a delinquent by the looks of it. Yolitz was very obviously not invested in this entire ordeal, lacking the focus to pay attention to the introductions of the crew before her. She slumped, letting the bones fall to gravity as she slouched and rested her feet on the table.

Sister Jeanne took noticeable issue with Yolitz’s couldn’t-care-less attitude,“It’s not polite for a young lady to curse, Yolitz”

“Heh… bite me, grandma,” Yolitz retorted with a smirk.

Sister Jeanne’s commanding glare nearly devolved into a fervent rage as she grabbed an extendable ruler from her pocket, “Watch your tone when I speak, damn you!” Yolitz reached for her staff and aimed it at Sister Jeanne, “Lets dance, you banshee hag!” The other wizards and priests grabbed their scriptures and staffs.

I grew weary of these sinister fools a while back! HAHA!” Father Rodriguez proclaimed, his hand retracting in his body to reveal a circular saw in its place.

“Oh, tell me about it, Bot-for-brains!” The Arch-Mage prepared already, The staff of Ignus the Sparking flickering a small flame.

OOohooooHOoo! WOO!” warbled Ziblar, electricity sparking between its tentacles like liquid tesla coils.

The stand-off reignited the distrust that was nearly put down by the introductions, the only one not yet armed was Mavis, panicking over what may be done to not turn the meeting hall into a mess of splinters and fireballs. As the only noises made were the deep breaths of a battle-ready horde, Mavis sprung up and slammed his hands down on the table!

That is enough, all of you!”

All of the members stared on at Mavis, wondering whether it was of any matter they stopped and listened.

“Need I remmmind you all we are on a diplommatic envoy from Nanotrasen, as well as the Space Wizard Federation? We are all contractually bound to sort this with peace, not devolve into a bloodbath!” Both the wizards and the chaplains glanced around at the scene, noting the speed in which things escalated, “Please, good folks, it is perhaps best that we just calmm ourselves?”

Ignus thought of Mavis’ words. He was aware of the contract he was binded by, and as an Arch-mage, he couldn’t get away with breaking direct orders from the council without possibly losing his position. As much as he would love to make a roast beef sandwich of the bovine and his compatriots, he had a duty, and damn it all, he was bound to it. Ignus let out a hefty sigh.

“Alright, alright. You two, lower your weapons”

“Come on, lame asss sssshit, we can take ‘em!”

“I said down. Yolitz the Catastrophic!” The saurian yielded with an angry mumbling, lowering their staff and returning to their slouch. “AAWWWW” Ziblar glubbed remorsefully, discharging itself. Mavis glanced to his sides, “That mmmeans you both as well!”

But he-... I can’t-...” Father Rodriguez stammers, not possibly entertaining the thought of not slashing open a wizard’s chest with his blade. “Good Rodriguez, calm yourself! And lower your ruler good Jeanne!” Father Rodriguez tries to work in a few more stammers before seceding, finally withdrawing the saw and replacing it with his hand. Sister Jeanne gives a soul-piercing stare to Yolitz before finally resting herself. Yolitz secretly flips her the bird.

The room has finally simmered back down into what could possibly be considered “peaceful” by the current standards (the current standards being “not ready to eviscerate your party’s opponent”). Mavis once again took the stand.
“Now, it seemmms we all have had a mmmmomment to calmmmm ourselves! If it is of no objection, I think it is timmmme we address the current issue at hand! The reason why we cammme here, if you will.” Mavis nods in confirmation, “Have we any objections to starting now?” The room remains silent, sparing a few scoffs from the wizard’s side of the negotiation table.

“Huzzah! Now, let us begin!” Mavis reaches into a red satchel by his side, laying out an assortment of papers and sorting through the stacks. Meanwhile, Ignus the Sparking’s mind wandered peering over at the holy bovine.

“I fail to see any good reason I couldn’t hit them now… just think about it! A well placed fireball, those sweet incendiary words ‘Mhol Hottov!’ And I could come back with three dead pastors! But nooooo! We’re trying things a different way, says the council! Bah! I’d be lucky to resist crisping this room by the end of the day! Eheheheh.. Eheh! Ehahah!”

“Good Ignus?” Mavis pauses, “Are you well?” “Whu… oh just thought of a… funny joke is all.”

“Ah, apologies!” as he returns to riffling through the papers again.

Back under his breath, Ignus remarks before fading to silence, “If this wastes my time, I’m bringing back something to the Federation… either a successful outcome from this mission or burgers.”

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